


You've Gotten Into My Bloodstream

by agirlnamedtruth



Series: WIPs [On Hiatus] [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Denial, Denial of Feelings, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fuck Or Die, Lust Potion/Spell, M/M, Magic, Magic Made Them Do It, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Pining, Sex Pollen, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-16 19:22:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1358989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/pseuds/agirlnamedtruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every time they say it'll never happen again. Every time it does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thursday_Next](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thursday_Next/gifts).



> Written primarily for Thursday, for Fandom Aid but it also fills an array of KMM prompts, which I will list at the bottom to save space. For the sake of preserving a canon timeline, Arthur and Gwen were never in a romantic relationship in this AU.
> 
> Title from [Bloodstream](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a8hD9SCMAQo) by Stateless.
> 
> As of 01/01/18, I'm opting to disable comments. [More information here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13077201).

The first time it happened, Merlin didn’t know what had hit him. He’d never felt anything like it before. He’d seen Arthur enchanted and he had more than his fair share of magic spells himself but he’d never been on the receiving end of one himself. Not a spell like this at any rate.

He knew what he was doing and in the back of his mind he knew it wasn’t right – that he wouldn’t simply grab Arthur by the collar and kiss him – but his body didn’t seem to be listening to his brain and his mouth certainly wasn’t.

His hands kept trying to grab at Arthur’s body, claim it for his own like he had wanted to do for so long, but Arthur was stronger than he was and when he recovered from the obvious shock of having Merlin literally throw himself at him, he somehow managed to restrain him. 

“Merlin, _what_ are you doing?” Arthur asked him, eyes wide and looking more than a little like his world had been turned upside down. Good. Made two of them. Merlin was on the brink of apologising, the assurance that he didn’t know what he was doing on his lips but the words came out a little differently than he had intended, entirely different.

“Please, Arthur, I need you,” he found himself saying before pausing, struck dumb for a second by words he’d really not meant to say. They were true. Gods, they were true but he’d never, ever, never dream of saying them. He’d never admit to his feelings, no more than Arthur would admit to the floors being well scrubbed or his armour shining especially bright. Because it would mean they’d have to admit that they didn’t completely hate each other.

“Merlin...”

“No, no, don’t say anything,” Merlin said, not sure if he was telling Arthur or himself. He’d abandoned logic a while back when he’d found himself pitching himself face first onto Arthur’s lips. “Just let me...”

Apparently what he wanted Arthur to let him do was reach for the laces on his trousers and blind sighting both of them, he somehow managed it before Arthur could pry him away again.

“What is the matter with you?” Arthur asked, holding both of Merlin’s wrists in one hand and keeping him at a safe distance with his other hand planted firmly on his chest. Merlin had to admit, even if it was keeping him from what he really wanted, he rather liked it. And from the way Arthur asked, concerned, caring, not in any way _judging_ him for his actions like some men would, he had to hope that Arthur wasn’t completely disliking it either.

“Come on, I already dress you and wash you and put you to bed, what’s a little more?” Merlin asked, internally blushing because that was a thought that had crossed his mind many a night; what if he did just a little more for him.

“This is a little different, don’t you think?” Arthur asked him and Merlin nodded furiously because it wasn’t a denial. It wasn’t a no. Arthur was just stating it was different. That was fine. He could do different. But Arthur was looking him up and down with a frown. “And a little sudden.”

“No, not sudden. Not at all,” Merlin said quickly, his mind still hopelessly trying to keep up with what his mouth was saying. It hadn’t been a worry before, he was enchanted, he could explain it away later. But if he started spilling his secrets now, he was done for.

“What’s brought this on then? You honestly can’t tell me that watching me assign knights for border patrols is what _does it_ for you?” Arthur said, his voice holding firm but his grip wavering.

Merlin paused, the spell fighting with his will. He should tell Arthur about the magic being worked on him, it might be a trap. But then, he couldn’t have Arthur telling Uther about it or he might end up losing his head. The magic inside him, his own or the one invading his system, urged him to tell Arthur the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, damning all the consequences.

“What can I say, it takes all sorts,” Merlin stalled stepping closer but subtly enough that Arthur didn’t notice, or if he did, he allowed it. Merlin breathed him in, his head spinning with the need to have him every way imaginable and just as he was about to make another go of it, he found himself whispering delicately as a lover might in the throes of passion, “I’m enchanted. With you.”

And suddenly, they were reversed and everything was backwards. Merlin found himself pressed up against the pillar with Arthur pressed up against him and yes, he really liked that. But Arthur hadn’t gotten the message yet, obviously. Arthur was holding his chin between his fingers, tilting it this way and that but not doing what he was supposed to do. 

“Are you sure?” Arthur asked sharply, still pulling Merlin’s face this way and that as if he could see the enchantment on his face somehow, wipe it from his skin like a layer of dirt.

“Yes, I’m sure, I’ve never been surer of anything,” Merlin babbled, his free hands taking advantage of Arthur’s distraction. He ran them over Arthur’s chest, his own tightening until he could barely breath. “I need you, Arthur, I know I do. A moment ago I was fine and now... I can’t keep myself from touching you. I can’t think about anything else. I _need_ you.”

“What do I do?” Arthur asked, his hand stilling but not dropping, resigned in belief that Merlin was telling the truth. “Should I take you to Gaius?”

“No! I need _you_. I keep telling you but you never were very good at listening. Or reading between the lines. Or seeing the bleeding obvious.” Merlin’s hands were on Arthur’s neck, there was no way he couldn’t feel them but he wasn’t stopping them, he wasn’t pulling Merlin away.

“And what does that mean?” Arthur asked, searching his eyes again but this time for something else. Like he couldn’t bloody see it. Nobody was that oblivious.

“You know what it means,” Merlin insisted, pushing his hips forward so that there was no way either of them could miss what he was getting at. His breath hitched as his cock pressed against Arthur’s thigh, the friction adding another layer to the haze he was already drowning in but to his surprise, Arthur pushed back, just as hard.

“No, I can see _that_ , idiot. I meant, what does that mean in regards to the enchantment? Is it some kind of love spell?” Arthur asked, breathing heavier now that there wasn’t an inch of daylight between their bodies.

“Oh, please, I already loved you. What good would a love spell do?” Merlin asked, looking resoundingly at Arthur’s lips rather than his eyes as the weight of his words landed on them both, halting them for a second, spell or no spell.

“Right...” Arthur said slowly. “Well. What then? Truth spell? Honesty serum? You have to help me out here, Merlin, you’re the one... _feeling_ it.”

Merlin ran his tongue over his teeth, like he could taste the magic. “Lust. Lust spell. Definitely.”

“And how do I cure a lust spell exactly?” Arthur asked, his eyes flicking up and down from Merlin’s eyes to his mouth at an alarming rate. Like he was trying not to look. Trying not to think what Merlin could do with his tongue. What Merlin _wanted_ to do so desperately.

“How do you cure lust?” Merlin asked pointedly, grinding his hips into Arthur’s again, reminding them both that there was a very simple answer to their problem.

Arthur flushed, plainly thinking the same thought as Merlin. “Would it not be more, ah, prudent to take care of it yourself. If this is a lust spell... well, it’s taking advantage a little, isn’t it?”

“Is it?” Merlin pondered, his thoughts finally reconciling with the ones implanted in his head. “The way I see it, it’s given me a nudge. Apparently in the right direction. It’s not like I don’t think about this day and night anyway. And there’s nothing affecting you and you seem perfectly happy where you are.”

Merlin reached one hand down between them, keeping his other hand on Arthur’s neck to stop him turning away and doing something stupid like being honourable. He finished the work he’d started earlier, his hand slipping down under the laces and into Arthur’s small clothes. He certainly seemed to be happy where he was and Merlin wasn’t about to have him end this over something so silly as a little bit of magic. 

“Besides,” Merlin continued, “It’s you I want. Who’s to say it’ll work?”

“What’s to say _this_ will?” Arthur asked but it wasn’t really a question, he was too busy looking at Merlin through half-lidded eyes for it to really be a worry.

“I know it will. Trust me, I know about these things. I can feel it,” Merlin insisted, his hand wrapping around Arthur’s cock resolutely, he wasn’t going to let go now.

Arthur looked at him oddly for a moment and Merlin’s self-preservation kicked in long enough to shut him up before he admitted just how much he knew about sorcery. To his relief Arthur nodded, hands coming up to rest on Merlin’s shoulders so he could direct him, walking them around in a circle until Arthur was the one pressed to the pillar. “If you think it will help.”

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Merlin asked, beaming, not sharing Arthur’s concern because he didn’t know that, no, it wasn’t simple at all. It was actually very complicated letting one’s servant-come-friend-come-hopeless crush sink gracefully to their knees with a look so openly hungry that it was almost dangerous to be on the receiving end of it. It was the most difficult thing in the world and when Merlin’s tongue licked along the length of his cock like it had done his teeth earlier, it became entirely too easy to thread his fingers through Merlin’s hair and urge him on.

Having Arthur give into him, and giving into the spell himself, silenced the rush in Merlin’s head and he could breathe easier again. The taste of Arthur was like medicine, something grounding him in the earthy taste of skin and sweat and the first beads of Arthur’s seed. He lapped it all up, wanting to know every inch of Arthur, not daring to risk leaving the spell unsatisfied. 

He reached for the laces on his own trousers, knowing neither of them would make it to an actual fuck, not a proper one. This would have to do them both. He curled his fingers around his cock, his other hand firm at the base of Arthur’s, keeping the same rhythm on both of them. His lips met his fingers, taking Arthur as deep as he could before pulling back, swaying back and forth like he was a pendulum, keeping time with Arthur’s sighs and curses, each needy noise that he tried so hard to keep inside for dignity’s sake. 

Arthur’s fingers curled in his hair, grasping for control, making it more of a mess than it usually was but it would be too much effort to stop and tell him off so he allowed it, letting Arthur tilt his head back, minutely changing the angle but making it perfect somehow. As Arthur had taken away the need to direct his mouth, Merlin refocused all his energy on sucking, lips closing around the soft skin until all he could taste, all he could feel was Arthur’s cock and it was blindingly obvious that nothing else would have ever healed him. This was what he needed. He’d needed this since the moment he’d met Arthur, he just hadn’t known how to put it into words.

Arthur made one last strangled attempt at saying Merlin’s name, not quite managing it before he was bucking up into Merlin’s mouth, the grip on his hair pulling him closer and keeping him still while Arthur spilled his seed down his throat. Merlin savoured every drop, swallowing it down like it would save his life even though his mind had long cleared. He probably could have staved the spell off on his own so long as he was allowed to touch Arthur but there was no sense sharing that revelation, not now.

He belatedly remembered his own hand, still listlessly stroking up and down his cock, trying to recreate the way he’d touched Arthur. He would have stopped, the spell broken and nothing calling for him to come as well but Arthur’s eyes were on him, watching him as he brought himself closer to edge and that kept him going. Arthur kept him going. Arthur always kept him going, alone at night when all he could do was touch himself and pretend. During the hard days when he wanted nothing more than to tell destiny to shove it. During the good days when he wanted nothing more than to tell Arthur everything.

“Merlin, I...”

The sound of his voice, the way he sounded so _Arthur_ even after everything was what drove Merlin clean over the edge, refusing to close his eyes and feel it fully because that would mean looking away from him, even for a second. But Arthur did look away, with a sigh that wracked his whole body. 

“Merlin...” he said again only this time, it sounded wrong. “What just happened, it can never happen again, you understand?”

Merlin swallowed, the taste of Arthur still in the back of his throat which seemed to be tightening of its own accord, Arthur’s words choking him.

“I understand that you were suffering from an enchantment and you weren’t responsible for your actions. I won’t hold them against you,” Arthur paused, lacing his trousers back up while Merlin tried to do the same, fumbling with the fastenings while his brain tried to set everything in order again. 

“In fact,” Arthur continued, tone brutally clipped. “I see no reason why we should tell anyone of this. Or ever speak of it again.”

Merlin cleared his throat, finally finding his voice. It was shaky but he reined it in tight, forcing down everything he felt just like he suspected Arthur was doing. “Of course not, Sire.”

“You understand?” Arthur asked, like he was seeking redemption, like if Merlin argued it, he might take it all back.

“I understand,” Merlin said, getting up and brushing the dust from his knees. “I was enchanted, like you said.”

“Good, good,” Arthur said although he looked far from good himself. He looked like he did when he was throwing himself on his own sword. Wounded but noble still. Even if he was being a total idiot with it.

The same selfish anger tightened in his gut, just as it did when he begged Arthur to stay safe and let him take the fall. It was petty, he knew, but just like with the spell, he couldn’t stop himself saying it. “I didn’t mean any of it, just so you know. We don’t need your head getting any bigger than it already is.”

“It was just the spell then,” Arthur said and Merlin couldn’t help but focus on the slight inclination at the end, asking him _was it just the spell?_

“Of course,” Merlin pushed his way past him, heading for the door because if he had to deny it again, he’d break something, possibly his heart. “It won’t happen again.”

The memory of the first time fades out because Merlin honestly couldn’t remember going back to his chambers or going to his own bed alone that night. But he remembered those last words, a cruel and yet kind joke from the gods. _It won’t happen again_. The seasons had barely changed before it happened again. And again. And again.


	2. Chapter 2

“Did I say this was a _bad idea_ already because I’ve felt like I’ve said it already!” Merlin shouted into the room, knowing Arthur was in there somewhere but unable to see him past the massive vase of flowers he was holding at arm’s length.

“Yes, you said it already,” Arthur voice came from behind the screen.

“Then remind me why you’re still meeting with them?” Merlin asked, setting the flowers down on the table. They weren’t even pretty. They were ugly mottled red and looked ready to spit poison at anyone who so much as walked past them too forcefully.

“Father won’t refuse King Olaf a visit, not now there is peace between them,” Arthur said, pulling on a shirt that was hanging from the screen.

“That doesn’t explain why _you_ are meeting with them,” Merlin said, reaching in the wardrobe for Arthur’s coat. If he wasn’t going to be sensible now, he probably never would be. “It’s a _bad idea_ , Lady Vivian-”

“Could not be left on her own,” Arthur attempted to talk over him but Merlin refused to fall silent.

“-is in love with you!”

“ _Was_ in love with me,” Arthur corrected him, coming out from behind the screen. “I’m sure she’s moved on since. I have.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. He wanted to tell Arthur the reason he’d so easily moved on was because he was no longer under the spell. In a charmingly romantic and insanely stupid moment, Merlin had thought kissing him might shock some sense into him. It had, in a manner of speaking. But sadly all Arthur remembered was coming to his senses and calling the disastrous wedding-cum-fight to the death off. It had been one of the more interesting near misses Arthur had had with marriage. 

Merlin however didn’t forget that attempting to kiss Vivian hadn’t so much as freed her from the spell as it had earned him a slap. He could only imagine her father thought her a born-again virgin if she did that in response to every other man’s advances. No wonder he was bringing her, he probably thought in the long haul, Camelot had been a good influence on her.

It was going to be a _catastrophe_. Merlin could just see it coming. He dumped Arthur’s coat down on the table with what he hoped was a long suffering sigh.

“These for me?” Arthur asked, noticing the flowers instead of Merlin’s suffering. When Merlin deigned to look at him, he was bending down to see if there was a card.

“Yes but they’re from Lady Vivian so I wouldn’t...” Merlin faltered as Arthur breathed the flowers in heavily, inhaling their scent and practically inhaling half the petals in the process. “...Do that if I were you. Great.”

“You worry too much, you know that,” Arthur said, rubbing his nose and sniffing. “They’re lovely. I’m sure she’s just being...” He stopped to sneeze loudly. “Friendly?”

“Arthur...” Merlin complained, a sense of dread falling on him like a gallon of cold water. “Tell me you’re allergic to flowers.”

“Of course not, I’m not a _girl_ like you,” Arthur denied. “I just... got some pollen up my nose or something. I’ll be alright in a minute. Come on, we’re late.”

“Maybe we should stay here a few more minutes?” Merlin suggested. “After all, you’d hate to see her looking all blotchy and red-eyed. It’s not very attractive.”

“I’m fine. I sneezed. It happens.” Arthur frowned.

But Merlin couldn’t help but notice Arthur was gripping the table and he _did_ look blotchy, pale where he wasn’t flushed.

“Perhaps it’s the flu,” Arthur said, changing his mind.

Merlin glared at the flowers, thinking _perhaps it’s another spell_ but he didn’t want to bring up the M-word. He didn’t want Vivian to lose her head over something that wasn’t really her fault.

“How do you feel?” Merlin asked, putting himself on the other side of the table, away from the flowers.

“I said I’m fine,” Arthur said but when he tried to push away from the table, he swayed and nearly fell. “A little dizzy perhaps. Very hot. And I itch... but on the inside. And I ache. And I’m having trouble thinking clearly, I hope.”

“Why _you hope_?” Merlin asked, the sinking feeling in his stomach warring with the butterflies that had awoken there. 

“Because I can’t think about anything other than how the collar on your jacket is folded the wrong way and I can see your neck for once and I really want to taste it and – fuck, see, not clear.”

“I don’t know, I’d say that was pretty clear,” Merlin said to himself but he could feel Arthur sentiment. Not the one about him licking his neck, the one about not thinking clearly. He was trying to sort his thoughts out himself between knowing what this was, the bliss that would be denying it and the terrible things that could happen if they ignored it.

“Anyway,” Arthur said, shaking himself. “We need to go. We can’t keep my father waiting. Or King Olaf. Or Lady Vivian,” Arthur said, moving around the table with a new found purpose that seemed to restore his strength. “I wonder how Vivian’s doing. They say she was greatly changed by her time here, do you think she’d still be up for it?”

“Sire,” Merlin said, his voice growing tight.

Arthur paused as if realising the ungallant way he’d spoken. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate. I mean, do you think they’ll stay long? Or just the night would be-”

“Arthur!” Merlin tried again, standing between him and the door. “It doesn’t matter which way you say it, you can’t go to Lady Vivian. Not like this at any rate.”

“Like what?” Arthur asked, stopping just short of treading on Merlin’s toes. “I’m fine.”

“And the more times you say that, the less fine I think you are,” Merlin argued, not daring to move in case Arthur got past him. “Just stay here until I can figure this out.”

“You can’t make me stay and you certainly can’t leave, you’re my servant!” Arthur said, staring defiantly into Merlin’s eyes.

“I’m your _friend_ and friends don’t let princes end up married because they couldn’t keep their hands to themselves... _again_! Now sit down!” Merlin took a deep breath, hoping this approach would work better than the softly, softly one.

To his surprise Arthur did as he said. He fell to his knees on the very spot and went from defiantly staring at his face to defiantly staring at his crotch. 

“No, I didn’t mean...” Merlin stopped and considered it. “Alright. Hold on.”

He reached down and took the keys from Arthur’s belt, with Arthur not making a move to stop him. Arthur watched as Merlin locked the door against his better judgement and stood in front of it. “Have me.”

“What?” Arthur said, shaking himself again.

“You can’t have Vivian, your father and her father would go spare... you might get her pregnant... you’d probably have to marry her. You don’t want that. Not the you that would think with his brain anyway,” Merlin reasoned. “But you can’t get me pregnant and I won’t ever breath a word of this to anyone, I swear. So have me instead.”

“Why?” Arthur asked, sitting back on his heels like he’d forgotten he’d ever kneeled willingly at Merlin’s feet.

“Because – and I hope the sensible you is getting all this – it’s the only option we have. I think you’ve been bewitched, Arthur, and I know you have a short memory but when I suffered the same... ailment... you helped me out rather than risking telling your father who would have probably put me on a pyre before asking if I was guilty or not.” Merlin paused for a breath, catching up all the things he’d rather not think about and pulling them to the front of his mind. “And I kept true to my word. I never mentioned it again – except now obviously – and I’ll keep silent again. It’s just another secret to add to a very long list, trust me; you don’t need to worry about that. And I know at least some part of you will settle for me instead because well, that thing about my collar didn’t come from nowhere, did it? So let’s just chalk it up to yet another time I’ve saved your arse and let’s get on with it.”

Arthur seemed to consider it, the flush on his skin had grown deeper and Merlin tried not to notice sweat beading on his collarbone. He wasn’t self-assured enough to think that it was a reaction to the thought of fucking him but it did spur him into action, whatever Arthur was afflicted with, it was getting worse.

Merlin walked over to him and dragged him back to his feet, keeping hold of him. “Come on, Arthur, it’s not the worst thing you’ve ever asked me to do, is it?”

“But you said-” Arthur started but Merlin kissed him, shutting him up before he could find a flaw in the plan.

“It doesn’t matter what I said,” Merlin said against his lips, not even knowing what Arthur was thinking about. It might have mattered a lot but for the sake of ease, he was willing to let go of everything he’d ever said in the past. “Just let me help you, please?”

Arthur nodded and kissed him back, his hands coming to rest on Merlin’s back, pulling him in tighter. For a moment, it seemed like nothing out of the ordinary. He was just kissing Arthur. Nothing unusual. Except for the _kissing Arthur_ bit. But then the kiss became breathless and when he broke away, Arthur kept kissing him, starting at his jaw line, just shy of his lips and working his way down.

When he got to his neck, he yanked away the folded collar and kept true to his word, burying his face in Merlin’s neck, his teeth grazing the thin skin and making Merlin’s pulse jump. He could feel himself start to get hard, even though he vowed this wasn’t for his own pleasure. Arthur latched onto his pulse point, sucking on the skin hard enough to bruise and making Merlin throb throughout his whole body, the same impatience rising in him even though he wasn’t bewitched by anything other than Arthur.

He pushed his hips into Arthur’s, feeling his cock press against another, hard as he was. It became all too apparent that this wouldn’t be a hasty suck of a cock like last time. He’d fucked up. He’d not set any boundaries and Arthur’s hand, reaching between them, was breaking them all anyway.

He pulled back but not far enough. Just enough that it gave Arthur better access to the fastenings on his trousers which were rapidly becoming unfastened. He couldn’t deny Arthur this, if it was what he wanted. After all, he’d literally offered Arthur himself, he just hadn’t thought it would be as balanced as this. He’d assumed all Arthur needed to do was get it out of his system and that Arthur, being Arthur, would just order him to his knees or bend over the table. This way, it seemed a touch real and Merlin wasn’t sure if that was better or worse, only that he couldn’t call a halt to it.

He tried to divert Arthur’s attention by kissing him again; running his hands down his chest until he could get them under Arthur’s smallclothes, beating him to the punch. Arthur’s hand hesitated when Merlin wrapped his fingers around his cock, his breath stopped and for a moment, he seemed to still entirely, as if he were already satisfied but after a breath, he reached for Merlin with a renewed resolve, not stopping until he could mirror Merlin’s actions.

Merlin kicked his trouser and smallclothes away, fairly sure he’d given up any notion of thinking about this reasonably. If Arthur wanted to stroke his cock, well, who was he to stop him? It wasn’t like it would do him any good, he’d need both his hands for that and one was placed firmly on the back of Arthur’s neck, keeping him within kissing distance while the other very hypocritically slid up and down the length of Arthur’s dick, trying to get him off without a fuss while at the same time, trying to make sure he didn’t come because then he wouldn’t have an excuse for letting this go further.

Arthur backed him up against the table and without thinking, Merlin climbed up onto it, knocking the vase and the flowers to the floor where they belonged. In his head he cursed and thanked Vivian in equal measure but he was sure that was only his lust speaking. Even though he wasn’t bewitched himself, he could remember the feeling, the _need_ to have Arthur, to be consumed by him, to render himself unable to ever think about anyone else again. It had been a handful of months since the day they’d promised never to speak about. Merlin hadn’t so much as thought about anyone else but he’d nearly strained his wrist thinking about Arthur. And this.

He pulled his shirt over his head, the last vestige of the clothes he’d started with and made to lie back on the table.

“No, you don’t,” Arthur said, yanking him back upright and sounding so much like _normal Arthur_ that he nearly groaned aloud. “I want to see you, properly, when I take you.”

Merlin let out a breath, half a laugh and half just to get the breath he’d been holding out of his lungs. “Yes, sire.”

“Good,” Arthur said, “At least you agree with me some of the time.”

Merlin fought back the urge to disagree with him until he honestly couldn’t even if he wanted to, his whole body thrummed in agreement until his only thought was, _yes_.

He felt Arthur’s fingertips against his lips and he opened his mouth for them, taking them inside, gently biting down them. Arthur’s hand on his arse pulled him closer, turning into fingertips and nails until Merlin relented and sucked on his fingers, making them wet enough for what they needed.

“That’s better,” Arthur said, pulling his fingers free and nudging Merlin forward again by his hips so he could circle them around his hole, breaching it as unceremoniously as if he were doing anything other than preparing his servant’s arse. 

Merlin looked him over while he adjusted to the intrusion; it was nothing he hadn’t felt before on lonely nights. Arthur was more flushed now than ever but then Merlin still had his hand wrapped lazily around his cock so maybe that wasn’t much of a sign. He didn’t have beads of sweat on his collarbone but Merlin vaguely remembered running his tongue over the ridge, collecting them up so maybe that wasn’t much of a sign either. But at least Arthur was focused and he seemed to have thankfully forgotten all about Lady Vivian. And he wasn’t telling Merlin that this didn’t mean anything between every breath which was nice. He decided his plan was going as well as could be expected and as Arthur crooked his fingers inside him, he changed it to _better_ than could be expected.

When the time came, Merlin didn’t tell him what to do and Arthur didn’t ask, they just aligned, like they knew exactly how it was meant to be and what the other was thinking. Merlin supposed the spell helped with that. The endless dreams and daydreams couldn’t have hurt either.

Merlin gripped the edges of the table as Arthur’s cock entered him, so slowly that time could have stopped and started running backwards for all he knew. But he kept his promise; he kept staring directly into Arthur’s eyes, watching for any sign that it was enough, that the old Arthur was back and ready to demand to know what the hell was going on. But he didn’t. He stayed absorbed in Merlin, looking upon him like one might if these were conventional circumstances. Like perhaps they had woken up that morning and decided, using logic and reason, to sleep together. In short, Arthur looked entirely at peace with being buried to the hilt in his best friend and servant. Maybe that meant it was enough.

“How do you feel?” Merlin asked, legs starting to ache from being held up and open but he didn’t dare wrap them around Arthur until he was sure this was what it was. He couldn’t bare for Arthur to have to pull them away.

“Amazing,” Arthur admitted, smoothing a hand over Merlin’s thigh, rocking his hips gently. “Are you a virgin?”

“What?” Merlin asked, taken aback. He’d had a lot of unexpected issues to tackle today but his sexual credentials were not something he’d ever expected to come up. “No.”

“You feel like one,” Arthur said, his tone almost loving.

“How would you know?” Merlin asked, falling into defensive bickering like an embrace. That was something he knew how handle.

“I wouldn’t, I suppose. I’ve never had a man before,” Arthur admitted and Merlin reeled again, unsure of whether to acknowledge the confession or not. 

He was just as unsure whether to feel guilty about his own half-lie. He’d never been with a man before, not like this. Not anything more than the quick fumble that happened with Arthur under duress. What that what Arthur had been really asking? Merlin sighed and chose to move on. This wasn’t helping settle anything, least of all how Arthur felt.

“Well... that wasn’t what I meant. I meant, do you feel better?” Merlin asked, aware he was flushing just as hard as Arthur now. Maybe it was spreading.

“No,” Arthur said quickly and then he shook his head. “Maybe. I still can’t think about anything other than being with you. I’m still hot and I’m still dizzy but...”

“But...” Merlin prompted him, clinging on a little tighter to the table now Arthur had remembered he was supposed to be fucking him.

“But, that could just be... normal. Considering what we’re doing, I mean. How do you feel?” Arthur asked him.

Merlin laughed. If he knew that one, he wouldn’t have a care in all the world. “I’m fine,” he said instead.

Arthur nodded and Merlin swallowed. It was all a bit too lucid for him. What if Arthur did remember this moment clearly? He seemed to be thinking more clearly now at least. But Merlin couldn’t bring himself to care; they’d worry about it later if they had to. He leaned up and kissed Arthur, distracting them from the moment of clarity.

Merlin was surprised when it didn’t kick Arthur into action, like he expected him to behave like some sort of rutting beast. But he didn’t, he continued to move against him slowly but surely, holding onto his thigh with one hand and the table with the other, his little finger overlapping Merlin’s thumb.

He let the worry that this would all come clattering to a halt when Arthur regained his senses fall away and brought his other leg up around Arthur’s waist, giving himself an anchor to balance himself against. They slowly slipped backwards, until Merlin’s back could almost touch the wood and still keeping his word, Arthur followed him down so he could watch him, their locked gaze becoming the only thing Merlin was sure of.

As he got closer, and he felt Arthur get closer, he bit his lip to keep himself from saying all the things he’d said last time. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. If he didn’t say them in the first place, Arthur couldn’t make him retract them. In theory, at least. Merlin closed his eyes, trying to slow down the inevitable plummeting feeling in his heart but he just felt it more acutely without Arthur’s eyes to distract him. The longer he lasted, the longer _this_ would last but it would all come to an end sooner or later and then.... what?

“Merlin,” Arthur said, so much like his usual impatient, demanding self that Merlin nearly snapped back at him but the edge of desperation, near neediness, in his voice stopped him. He opened his eyes, remembering what Arthur wanted, and ran his fingers up into Arthur’s hair.

“Sorry,” he said distractedly, wishing he could fix everything else as easily. Perhaps this hadn’t been such a good idea after all; at least the worst Vivian could do to him was marry him.

Arthur considered him a long moment before smiling softly. “Don’t be.”

Merlin was going to answer him, ask him what he meant, perhaps apologise for being sorry but Arthur gripped him tighter and Merlin knew he wouldn’t hear him even if he did speak. He just held on as Arthur’s eyes drifted closed, finally breaking his word. He felt Arthur finish inside him, in a sudden hot rush that left Merlin squirming on his softening cock. His body wanted to follow Arthur but his mind and his heart ruled out the pleasure. It wouldn’t be worth it afterwards. Not if Arthur came to in time to see it.

He gave Arthur a moment to regain himself and then shifted back on the table; pulling his shirt back on even though it did nothing to cover the fact he was still hard. Arthur looked at him with weary eyes and for a moment, he thought Arthur would dismiss him but it was just tiredness.

“Let’s get you to bed, yeah? I’ll tell your father you’re ill or it was my fault or... I’ll think of something.”

Arthur let himself be guided to the bed but when he sat down, he reached for Merlin’s hips. “I should do something about that. Return the favour, as it were.”

“You don’t have to,” Merlin said blankly while Arthur’s thumb and forefinger fiddled with the hem of his shirt.

“I want to,” Arthur said with a shrug. There wasn’t the same indifferent lust in his voice as he’d had before but Merlin didn’t want to risk asking if he was better, if he was back. He’d rather not know.

He thought up half a dozen ways to diplomatically decline Arthur’s offer but he said none of them, just in case. They both needed whatever was in Arthur’s system out of it and maybe fucking hadn’t been enough. After all, when Merlin was afflicted himself, his own pleasure was only an afterthought. He lied to himself, pretending Arthur needed it more than he did, and he let his prince bow his head and take his cock into his mouth.

Arthur had claimed never to been with another man but Merlin hadn’t either, nor had any girl ever extended such a courtesy to him so he couldn’t tell the difference. It felt perfect to him. A lot like Arthur; strong, insistent and reliant on Merlin’s direction even if he wouldn’t admit it. Even though it took Merlin a while to override everything he was thinking and focus on what he was feeling, Arthur never wavered, he never gave up. He didn’t even show weakness or distaste as he wiped his hand over his mouth after swallowing Merlin’s seed. He just stared up at him, like he had done throughout, like he was the only thing in the room.

“I think I’ll sleep now. Perhaps I’ll feel better in the morning,” Arthur said finally, after a long moment of silence.

“Let’s hope so,” Merlin said before muttering to himself, “Because Vivian’s here for a week.”

He left Arthur in his bed and stayed outside the door all night. He told himself it was to make sure nobody else – nobody being the Lady Vivian – got into his chambers. But really, it was in case Arthur needed him. In any capacity. To apologise or explain or get on his knees to beg for his job. Or to go another round in Arthur’s bed if the one on the table hadn’t quite done the job.

But he wasn’t called on all night. When the sun rose, the best he could hope for was that Arthur had forgotten the whole thing. The worse that he could imagine was that Arthur pretended to forget the whole thing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little interlude-like chapter. Apparently they needed more closure.

Arthur sighed and let his head fall back against the pillow. The week was finally over. And it had been a nightmare. Vivian had tried to corner him at every moment, as if she expected him to take her right there on the council chambers floor.

Luckily Merlin was always there to intercept her, blocking her every attempt and looking over every gift she tried to send him. He was practically eating his dinner for him, just in case she'd slipped a potion in it. If anything, he was worse than she was.

It wasn't that he was ungrateful. He knew he owed Merlin so much that he couldn't even begin to thank him but it lingered, like Vivian's enchantment, in the air between them and it was starting to get to him.

Arthur swallowed. He'd dismissed Merlin early because they both needed a rest but really it was because Arthur needed a break. From Merlin. To... get it out of his system.

It had happened before. After the first time, he'd been plagued by dreams of Merlin confessing his love and even sweeter dreams of Merlin on his knees, begging to be his. He'd also been plagued by nightmares about what he'd done after, how badly he'd handled it.

This time he knew better than that. He didn't handle it at all. He didn't even acknowledge it. Merlin thought he didn't remember. While it was true that for the most part, it was a haze at best, there was one part Arthur couldn't forget. The moment, where in perfect clarity, he had reached for him, unable to turn away from such an opportunity.

Guilt twisted in Arthur's stomach. He should have told Merlin he was better. He should have told him that he knew what he was doing. But he couldn't and his only other option would have been to let the moment go. So he lied, by omission of the truth.

And when Merlin had told him he didn't have to do it, he spoke the truth for the first time. _He wanted to._

It wasn't like he imagined it to be. Not that it was bad; it just wasn't like it had been with Merlin or like it had been under the spell. He hadn't been the same. He'd been as detached and cold as he had been when he'd told Merlin it didn't mean anything. He'd love to say it meant that what he felt for Merlin wasn't real and that he wasn't like _that_ but in his heart - the terrible, treacherous organ that sought to destroy him - he knew it was because he was lying to him.

He couldn't change that. Not that he'd ever have the chance again. He'd never have another excuse to behave as he had. He'd never have something else to blame it on.

He reluctantly fell asleep, the red flower haunting his dreams. He dreamt that it wasn't Vivian that had put them there, but Merlin. He dreamt that he found himself, knowing what they were, pretending he was affected. He gave in easily, said all the right things and took Merlin to his bed in the way a gentleman would. He told him all the things that were true and Merlin forgave him all the less honest moments in between. Merlin admitted that he let Arthur have him not to save him from a doomed marriage but because it was the only way they could be together without being beholden to the consequences. But Merlin's voice turned into his own and he woke shaking, chilled by cold sweat with his confused body betraying him.

Arthur cursed himself. He'd opened the door again. Just like before. It could be closed, he knew it. In time it would heal over like an old battle wound but he knew from experience it would always ache in the cold.

Guilt twisted in his gut as he released his body from the burden of his desires. If only getting rid of what he felt was so simple. He could go to Merlin now and pour it all out. Give up entirely. But he would never do that. He was the only heir to Camelot. To give in would be to destroy his father, his legacy and his kingdom. To ignore it all would only destroy him. It wasn't even a difficult choice, though every time he made it; it felt like the hardest choice in all the world.

-x-

Merlin slept fitfully, dreaming of what could have happened. He saw Arthur and Vivian. In dreams, they were worse than in reality. At least Merlin had only ever had to witness them kissing before. And listen to Arthur seemingly change his mind about the impossibility of them ever being anything more than whatever it was they were. And watch as he almost got himself killed. But that was pretty much the everyday for him. Most of it anyway.

His imagination was far too vivid for his liking. What if he'd not realised Arthur looked unwell? What if he'd gotten to the Lady Vivian, gotten it on, gotten her pregnant and gotten her down the aisle all before Merlin could talk some sense into him?

Merlin dreamed that Arthur got down on his knees, just as he had for Vivian before. Merlin shouted at the top of his lungs, _you don't have to_ , not expecting Arthur to pay the blindest bit of attention to him, only for Arthur to stare him dead in the eyes and say, _I want to_.

He woke with a start, shouting out Arthur's name. He could only thank his preoccupation with the prat for the fact Gaius was well and truly used to Merlin crying out Arthur's name in the middle of the night. These nightmares however seemed to be worse than the ones of Arthur dying. At least Merlin knew he'd never let that happen, not while he still breathed.

He rubbed his chest with the flat of his hand, trying to stop his heart from giving up altogether. It had only been a week. It would get better. It always did. Give it a little time and enough insults passed between them and it would be like nothing had ever happened. It would probably be easier this time, as Arthur didn't seem to remember a thing.

Merlin closed his eyes. He'd made the right choice. Even if it didn't feel that way. A part of him wished Arthur did remember, just so he could tell him that. He'd even pushed a few times, to try and set Arthur's memory on the right path but he didn't even blink when Merlin came in the next morning to sweep up the shards of pottery and take away the flowers.

A gnawing feeling settled in his stomach like he'd missed dinner. A thought he'd rather not have had rose to the surface – what if Arthur didn't want to remember? Would he himself, given the chance, choose to forget all about it?

He rolled into his side, feeling the ache Arthur had left him with. He could never forget, even if he did want to.

**Author's Note:**

> Overall fic fills [this prompt](http://kinkme-merlin.livejournal.com/32553.html?thread=34161193#t34161193).
> 
> Chapter two fills [this prompt](http://kinkme-merlin.livejournal.com/36351.html?thread=40384255#t40384255) and mentions some past canon Arthur/Vivian enchantment and an attempt at a new enchantment involving her however nothing becomes of it.


End file.
